


Ataraxia

by AnxiousPeaches



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, Drabble, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Music, Sleepy Cuddles, light affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 22:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousPeaches/pseuds/AnxiousPeaches
Summary: Quentin finds a familiar mp3 player and introduces Michael to music. Just some cute fluffy drabble.





	Ataraxia

Quentin Smith

We were all convinced that electricity simply didn’t work the way it should in these weird dimensions. The televisions in the institute cracked with white static even though they were unplugged. Lights flickered on and off in every house in Haddonfield. Even those giant gates we powered seemed physically unconnected with the generators.

That’s why it surprised me when I found an mp3 player carelessly tossed on a bed in a house near Badham Elementary. White headphones were plugged into the jack, and I could still hear the drumbeats of a rock song coming through. 

It was an old player, not as sophisticated as the iPod I had back home. The round, plastic body had a green speckled pattern that faded over years of use. Even the brand name of the device had peeled away. 

My fears of being chased by Freddy vanished. I paused the song and pocketed the device, hoping I’d be able to survive the trial so I could explore whatever was on it. 

I got lucky again when I found the hatch, escaping before Freddy had even spotted me.  _ I’m sure he’ll make that irritation clear when he visits me in my dreams next time. Then again, if I could blast this music loud enough…  _ Another tool to keep me awake was more than welcome. 

The others didn’t notice me slink away from the fire as soon as I came through the fog. They were too busy grumbling amongst themselves to even notice I’d come back from the trial. I knew the second they heard I’d gotten something like this, they’d all bug me to see it. The older ones especially would be intrigued, as any new technology was like freakin’ magic to them.

A part of me always felt bad for avoiding the other survivors. The concern that seeped through their voice when they spoke made me anxious. I knew they meant well, but constantly reassuring people that I didn’t need to sleep was so exhausting. So instead I became known as the quiet one. The antisocial boy that never got to close to any of them. 

I walked past the black pond near the campsite and into the trees. Most of the others were afraid of the woods around the camp. I never understood why until a few months ago, when I ran into a familiar killer. Michael Myers wandered aimlessly around the trees, seeming just as startled to find me as I was too find him. I expected him to kill me but, instead, he just continued walking. 

The experience left me shaken, but not enough to keep me from going out there. The others called me stupid for it, but I preferred the term fearless. After that, we stumbled into each other quite often. Then he started following me around while I walked. Eventually, this led to me talking to him, though he never responded to anything I said. The set up was weird, but I didn’t exactly mind him hanging around me. As long as he didn’t get an urge to murder me, I allowed it.

Finally I found the large boulder sunken between two pine trees. A carpet of moss was spread across one side of the rock. From what I could tell over the many times I visited, the sturdy plant never grew. In fact, I suspected it was actually fake, just like most of the plants in the realms we visited. That seemed to be a theme: everything felt disconnected from reality. Even the woods I walked in, with its completely level ground and evenly spaced trees, were wrong. 

I settled down with my back against the smooth stone, then pulled out the mp3 player. Its round, plastic body felt so fragile in a place where people regularly had their skulls cracked open. There were only three buttons on the front: back, pause/play, forward. On the side beside the headphone jack looked like a port to plug into some computer.  _ That’s never going to be useful. _ I’d still yet to find a computer anywhere, and I knew if I ever did I’d have to fight Feng to the death to have it. 

I slipped the headphones into my ears and pressed play. The beating drums started again, accompanied by the energetic notes of an electric guitar. A group of guys started singing about someone dissing his girlfriend. The sound felt oddly familiar, but I couldn’t tell from where. I wished the player had a screen to tell me the name of the song or at least the artist. 

A few more songs in and I started to figure out the owner’s taste. Mostly alternative stuff, leaning toward rock. It wasn’t exactly my taste, but I didn’t feel like being picky. If I were back at home, I’d be blasting metal music from my speakers. My dad would bang on my door and plead with me to turn the music down. After the fifth time he asked, I’d finally listen to him.  _ Ah, good times. _ I closed my eyes and turned the volume up. It didn’t matter if I went deaf. It wasn’t like the effects were permanent anyway. Something about the sounds felt familiar. Felt like home. 

_“You sure you don’t mind, Quentin?”_ _Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, just like it always was when she was at work. After cleaning up a messy table, she wiped her greasy hands on her black apron._

_ “I get tired of hearing the same five songs they play anyway,” I said. She smiled and the whole world looked brighter. She turned off the radio and plugged in her own music, letting the diner fill with the sounds of angsty love songs.  _

My eyes flew open at the feeling of someone prodding at my leg. The heavy work boots stopped moving, satisfied I finally acknowledged them. Startled, I looked up at the impossibly tall man leaning over me. My fleeting fear must have been visible on my face, but it was hard to tell if he acknowledged it. Behind the white latex mask, I could barely see his eyes, which were cast in a black shadow. His denim jumpsuit, so dark you could barely see the blood stains, smelled almost like a wet dog. It took me a second to realize he must have washed it, probably in one of the ponds the killers had access too. 

He didn’t say anything, just like always. I could tell by the way he tilted his head that something had struck his curiosity. I nodded my head as a greeting. It still felt strange to talk to him, even though we’d started this “friendship” months ago.  _ Well, probably months ago. Who knows how long its really been.  _

His knife was gone, as it usually was during these visits. That didn’t mean I was totally safe. After all, a guy as strong as him could easily snap my neck if he wanted too. He sat down beside me and lightly touched the wires of my headphones. 

“Oh, this,” I shouted over the music. He flinched. I turned the volume way down, my cheeks flushed slightly red. “Sorry,” I said, much quieter now. “It’s an mp3 player I found today. I haven’t seen one in so long, I decided to come out here and listen to it.” 

He stared at me blankly, just like always.

“I think it belonged to Nancy,” I said, my finger absently playing with one of the cords. I didn’t have to explain who she was too him. He knew from the other times we talked. “She used to play music in the diner while they were closing up. I’d stick around and help her clean sometimes. I’m not really sure why I found it in Badham today, though. I guess things have a weird way of just showing up, don’t they?”

The brief shrug he gave me was the only indication that he was listening. The first few times we met, it felt like I was talking to a brick wall. He followed me around the woods with the same blank stare. I honestly thought he might be completely mindless. But then, over time, he started communicating. It wasn’t verbal, of course. Just shrugs, nods, even a hug once. I couldn’t tell if he simply didn’t want to speak or if it was impossible for him. In the end, it didn’t matter. We found a way to work with it. 

“I think it might help me stay awake if I play the music loud enough. I’m worried about having it out in front of the others though. They’ll get jealous and I really don’t want them trying to steal it from me…” Though there were times it felt comfortable to be quiet around him, there were also moments where I felt awkward. I learned to fill the void with my thoughts, speaking out loud just so neither of us got bored. 

I really wanted to keep playing the music, but it felt rude too when he was trying to hang out with me. “Do you want to listen?” I asked, getting the idea that maybe I could do both. 

That same blank stare, this time with a slight head tilt.  _ Reluctance? _

“I won’t play the music loud this time, I promise.” I pulled out my left headphone and held it out to him. He took it, looking it over with curiosity. “You put it in your ear,” I said, which earned me a squinted look as if insulted I thought I needed to tell him that.

He lifted up part of the mask, just enough to reveal his strong jawline and pale skin. I’d yet to see the face that hid behind it. After he carefully put the headphone in his ear, he smoothed the mask back down over his face. 

I turned the music up just enough, so I could make out the words again.  A soulful cover of an old pop song played out. For once, I recognized a song from the mix. Nancy’s hipster taste couldn’t fool me this time. 

Michael stared at me with the same straight face.  _ Perhaps someone who kills people every day isn’t going to be interested in soft, thoughtful music.  _ I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from him. I found myself a lot more interested in how he might react to certain songs than the actual music itself.  _ Maybe he hates this? _

Yet, there  _ was  _ a change, so subtle I almost missed it. His stiff shoulders relaxed a little as he sat beside me. His fingers stopped nervously tapping against the grass. The eyes behind the mask closed. “I like this one,” I said as the song started to end. 

He surprised me by nodding. 

We stayed like for a while, listening to songs as they rolled through. Unfortunately, I realized that Nancy’s music would never be able to keep me away. For every upbeat indie song she had, there were at least three acoustic ones that lulled me into a dangerous peacefulness. That peace, however, really seemed to soften Michael up. 

He stirred when I yawned after about the tenth song. 

“Sorry,” I sighed breathlessly.

He held a hand up to my face, pausing for a second just to make sure I wasn’t frightened. When I didn’t run away screaming, he gently ran his thumb across the bags under my eye.  _ Sleepy?  _ It’s how he always asked if I’d slept recently. Unlike the other survivors, it didn’t exhaust me to feel him ask. 

“It’s been a few days,” I admitted sheepishly. 

He let out a short huff.  _ Annoyed.  _ He grabbed the sleeve of my jacket and tugged me toward him. When Michael wanted me to do something, he had a way of just forcefully pushing me around until I finally understood what he wanted. I limply complied with him, letting him pull me close until I was leaning into his side. Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. He ran his thumb under my eye again.  _ Sleep. _

“But Freddy-” My voice whined softly, stopping as he ran a finger across my lips. The message was clear:  _ No arguing.  _ It lingered there for a moment before he let his hand fall into my lap. The arm around me gave a gentle squeeze. 

The embrace of this man who had killed me so many times now felt strangely safe. Each slow breath made his chest rise and fall. The warmth of his body kept the cold from chilling me. My hand slipped into his, pleased to feel his fingers close around mine. I closed my eyes, letting the sounds of Nancy’s music carry me away. 


End file.
